


sun tapes.mp3

by soulofme



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, High School, Love Confessions, M/M, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-07 22:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19094731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofme/pseuds/soulofme
Summary: “What are you looking at?” Jaebum asks.“Nothing.” You, he thinks, over and over. Always you.He wonders if Jaebum can hear his thoughts, if he knows how much Mark wants him, how much it hurts being close to him, but not close enough to have him all to himself.





	sun tapes.mp3

**Author's Note:**

> The complete version of this [drabble](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18520663) has finally happened. I know I said it wouldn't, but here we are lol

“Oppa!”

Soohyun bounds over to them, dark, shiny hair bouncing behind her. There’s a shy smile on her face as she comes to a stop before them. She only has eyes for Jaebum, though, ignoring Mark as if he isn’t even there. Mark swallows down the sour taste in his mouth when she tucks a strand of hair behind her hair and extends her hands towards Jaebum.

“I got this for you,” she says. Jaebum reaches for the container of strawberry milk, raising his eyebrows. “It’s hot today. Make sure you drink all of it, okay?”

And then, before Jaebum can even say so much as _thanks_ , she sprints off to the gate, where her friend Hyejeong is waiting. Mark watches them giggle to each other before they link arms and begin to walk home.

“Hey,” Jaebum says, shattering Mark’s train of thought. “You thirsty?”

“What?” Mark asks, staring down at the offered drink. Condensation pools on Jaebum’s hand, rolling down his wrist and knuckles. Mark quickly damps down the surge of heat that swells in his gut. “She got that for you.”

“So?” Jaebum asks, raising a brow. He wrinkles his nose. “I hate strawberries.”

Mark laughs, shocked, and Jaebum grins widely at him. As they pass a garbage can, Jaebum throws the bottle in, laughing when it sails perfectly into the bin.

“You should be a basketball player,” Mark remarks dryly. Jaebum snorts.

“ _After_ film school,” he says. He throws an arm over Mark’s shoulder, ruffling his hair before Mark can stop him. “Hey. Did you hear back from any schools yet?”

“I’m still waiting for SNU,” Mark says, and saying it sounds so dumb, somehow. SNU is one of the most prestigious schools in the country. Why would they even _want_ Mark? He’s nothing interesting, definitely not worth enough to go somewhere so esteemed.

“Hey,” Jaebum says, expression softening. “You’re gonna get in.”

“Okay,” Mark says simply, too tired to argue. “How about you?”

“I’m waiting on one,” Jaebum says.

He’d been secretive about where he applied, and even more so about which school he wanted to go to the most. Mark knew he applied to a handful of schools in Seoul like many of their other classmates. He mentioned there was another school his parents had pushed him to apply to, but he wasn’t too interested in attending. Mark figures that’s the last school Jaebum’s waiting for.

“Soohyun really likes you, you know,” Mark says after a moment.

“I know,” Jaebum says with a shrug. “There’s no point, though. We’re graduating soon.”

“Do you like her?” Mark doesn’t know why he says it. His heart beats rapidly in his chest as he prepares himself for Jaebum’s answer.

“Nah, not really.”

A tiny, relieved breath escapes Mark’s lips.

“What about you?”

“Me?” Mark echoes.

“Do you like anyone?”

“No,” Mark says, pulling a face to make the lie seem even more convincing. “There’s no point.”

Jaebum hums and finally removes his arm from around Mark’s shoulder. He finds himself missing the warmth almost as soon as he’s gone.

“Hey, Mark.” There’s a mischievous grin on Jaebum’s face. “Let’s drink tonight.”

“We can’t,” Mark says, quickly glancing around their surroundings in case someone can hear Jaebum’s ridiculous proposition. “Are you crazy?”

“Why not?” Jaebum says. “My brother can get us drinks. My parents aren’t home tonight.”

“Minho won’t mind?”

“Nah,” Jaebum says, waving a hand dismissively. “He owes me anyway.”

Mark swallows hard, gripping his backpack straps tightly.

“Okay,” he mutters quietly, jumping when Jaebum suddenly pumps his fists into the air.

“Fuck yeah!” he screams, loud enough that an elderly woman crossing the street gives them a dirty look. Mark quickly mouths an apology before he rushes to clamp his hand over Jaebum’s mouth.

“What is wrong with you?” he says, voice shrill, and Jaebum’s eyes curve up as he smiles against Mark’s palm. “It’s official. You’ve finally lost your mind.”

“Hey, Mark,” he says, swatting Mark’s hand away. “I’ll race you home. Loser has to buy dinner.”

“That’s not fair,” Mark grumbles with a scowl. “I don’t have any money.”

“Then I guess you better win!” Jaebum calls out, just as he begins to sprint away.

“Hey, Im Jaebum!” Mark screeches, groaning before he reluctantly chases after his friend.

 

 

 

 

“Here, you brat.”

Minho deposits a plastic bag filled with cheap beer onto the floor.

“Thanks,” Jaebum mutters around the pretzel in his mouth, frantically mashing buttons as he attempts to absolutely slaughter Mark’s character. When Minho clears his throat expectantly, he sighs. “Thank you, _hyung_.”

“Don’t stay up too late,” Minho says before he leaves, closing Jaebum’s door with more force than necessary.

Mark stares at the door, and Jaebum takes advantage of the distraction to finally kill Mark’s character. He laughs manically as he does, leaning back on his bed as he reaches for the beer.

“This shit again?” Jaebum mutters, glaring at the can disapprovingly. He pops the tab and takes a long sip, exhaling loudly when he’s done. “What’s wrong with you?”

Mark moves his thigh away from Jaebum’s socked toes. They wiggle threateningly at him when Mark raises an unimpressed eyebrow at Jaebum’s antics.

“He’s enlisting soon, isn’t he?”

“Who, Minho?” Jaebum asks, taking another swig of beer. “Yeah. Probably in a few weeks.”

Mark drags his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them. “Are you going to miss him?”

“No,” Jaebum says. “He’s a pain in the ass.”

“But he’s your brother.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not annoying,” Jaebum points out. He grins slyly at Mark. “Bet _you’re_ gonna miss him.”

“Hey,” Mark says, cheeks flaming red as he swats at Jaebum’s legs. “That isn’t funny.”

Jaebum shrugs and offers his drink to Mark, who takes it after a moment. When they were kids, Mark thought Minho was the coolest guy ever. He practically worshipped the ground he walked on, often to the point where Jaebum became _convinced_ that Mark had a crush on Minho. He liked bringing it up at random moments, mostly to embarrass the hell out of Mark.

“Right, right,” Jaebum concedes, leaning back again.

Silence falls between them. Mark takes a slow sip of the beer, cringing when the liquid rolls across his tongue and travels down his throat. He’s never been a fan of drinking.

“Hey,” Jaebum says, kicking his foot lightly against Mark’s ankle. “We’re always gonna be friends, right?”

“Of course,” Mark says instantly. “Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not stupid,” Jaebum murmurs. There’s a strange expression on his face, one that Mark can’t read. He sets his drink down carefully.

“Jaebum?”

“Forget it,” Jaebum says, shaking his head. He reclaims his discarded controller. “C’mon.”

Mark tries to lose himself in the game, but his brain keeps playing Jaebum’s words on repeat. He knows he’s overthinking it, just like he always does, but he can’t help it. As close as they are, they are plenty of times where Mark just doesn’t understand Jaebum. Today is no exception.

Later, when the beer is gone and they’ve played all the games they possibly can, Jaebum walks Mark to the door. He leans against the doorframe, watching as Mark ties his shoes and grabs his backpack.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mark says. Jaebum nods once, staring at Mark with a kind of intense concentration that makes him feel shift uncomfortably.

He turns for the door, feeling Jaebum’s eyes on his back as he steps outside.

 

 

 

 

Mark spends his lunch break outside, eating a sandwich on one of the tables. He’s sitting beneath a towering tree, enjoying the shade as he eyed how the sun beats down on his less fortunate classmates. He watches a group of boys play soccer in the courtyard, their uniform shirts untucked and cheeks flushed red with exertion. They’re laughing, pushing each other playfully, looking so carefree, as if nothing matters in the world except for this very moment.

Mark swallows down the rest of his sandwich. It’s then that Jaebum deposits himself onto the bench across from Mark, obscuring his view of their classmates.

He notices right away that there’s something off with Jaebum. His shoulders are hunched, jaw clenched like he’s pissed as hell about something. It’s not unusual for Jaebum to look annoyed. He’s passionate about everything, and when people don’t meet his expectations, his disappointment manifests into anger.

But that’s not what Mark is seeing now. This is a different kind of anger, one that he hasn’t seen before.

“Hey,” Mark says tentatively, nervously eyeing the dark expression on Jaebum’s face. “What’s with you?”

“Let’s go.”

“Huh?” Mark says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Go where?”

“Somewhere. Anywhere,” Jaebum says. His dark eyes are practically boring through Mark’s. “Are you coming with me or what?”

Mark nods carefully. Jaebum releases a heavy breath and stands, waiting impatiently for Mark to throw out the remains of his lunch. Mark scrambles to catch up with him once Jaebum begins to walk away.

“Are we cutting class?”

Jaebum doesn’t answer him, choosing instead to hoist himself over the gate. Mark hesitates, glancing over his shoulder. No one is paying attention to them. Soohyun isn’t even around to bombard Jaebum with gifts.

“Hurry up,” Jaebum says gruffly.

Mark sucks in a deep breath and wedges his foot into the gate. He scales it nowhere near as effortlessly as Jaebum, landing unsteadily on his feet.

Jaebum walks ahead of him, scowling down at the ground like it’s done something to personally offend him. Mark swallows roughly, the wind ruffling their hair and Jaebum’s unbuttoned uniform shirt. It’s creased around his elbows, and it flutters gently, exposing the dark undershirt he has on underneath.

“Jaebum?”

“What?”

“Where are we going?”

“Like I said,” he mutters. “Anywhere.”

Jaebum suddenly freezes, cursing under his breath.

“We’re gonna miss the bus!”

He takes off running, leaving Mark to gape at his back. He forces his legs to move, feeling breathless as he attempts to follow Jaebum’s form as he weaves in and out of the crowd. People shoot him dirty looks when Mark shoves past, and he pointedly keeps his head down to avoid looking at their angry faces.

When he reaches the bus stop, Jaebum is leaning against the sign, arms crossed over his chest. Mark hunches over, chest heaving, legs burning from his recent run. The bus pulls up the curb moments later, and Jaebum boards it before Mark has fully regained his breath.

Jaebum picks an empty seat near the back. Mark drops himself down beside him, wiping sweat off his forehead.

“What the hell?” he wheezes out.

“Sorry,” Jaebum says, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic. He slouches in his seat and closes his eyes.

Mark stares at his profile for a while, focusing his gaze on the gentle slope of his nose and the sharp curve of his jaw. He feels his mouth grow dry as his stomach clenches uncomfortably. He can feel the desire running through his veins, the unfiltered _want_ , and it makes him feel like he’s burning up inside.

He takes care to crush the feeling, telling himself that it’s wrong. He and Jaebum are best friends. They’re not supposed to have feelings like that, not for each other.

No matter how much Mark wants to.

Mark sighs softly, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling. The bus is quiet, save for the slow, sad song that plays on the radio. Even from where they’re sitting, Mark can hear the bus driver humming along to the lyrics.

His eyes slip shut before he can help himself, his entire body relaxing as he forces himself to think about anything but Jaebum.

 

 

 

 

“Mark.”

His eyes snap open. Jaebum leans back, out of Mark’s field of vision. When Mark sits up, he jerks his chin towards the front of the bus.

“We’re here.”

“Okay,” Mark mutters, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he gets up. Jaebum follows him off the bus.

He takes a peek at their surroundings. The street is narrow, and towards the end there’s a woman selling fruit from the back of her truck. Mark eyes the signs around them. There’s a bright neon one outside of a convenience advertising ramen, which Jaebum grabs his shoulder and directs him towards.

“Busan?” Mark asks.

He’s been here before, but only a handful of times. Sometimes in the summer, his parents drive down to the beach. His mother insists that the beaches in Busan are superior to Seoul’s. She lived in Busan for a while, anyway, long before she met Mark’s father.

“It’s nice here,” Jaebum explains simply. He points at the store. “You hungry?”

“No,” Mark says, even though his lunch is long gone by now. His stomach grumbles quietly.

“Get whatever you want,” Jaebum says when they step into the store. He drifts off to an aisle towards the back, no doubt searching for the ramen.

Mark lingers awkwardly in the doorway, holding tight onto his backpack straps. He watches as Jaebum browses the aisles, picking up an energy drink and a plastic container of ramen before heading to the counter to pay.

Mark grabs a bag of candy off the nearest shelf and adds it to Jaebum’s pile. The woman behind the counter raises her eyebrows at them. She’s probably around his mother’s age, Mark thinks, and feels guilt settle heavily in his gut. If his mother knew what he was doing, she’d probably kill him.

She doesn’t ask them why they aren’t in school. Jaebum pays for their things and walks to the counter near the front of the store with his ramen, ripping open the top and eagerly digging it. Mark chews on a gummy worm, Jaebum’s slurping the only sound between the two of them.

“I got my last acceptance letter,” Jaebum says, mouth stuffed full of noodles.

Mark nearly chokes on his candy.

“Congrats,” he says, but Jaebum shakes his head.

“It’s that school my parents wanted me to go to.”

“Oh,” Mark says quietly. “Well, you don’t have to go, right?”

“Did you get into SNU?” Jaebum asks instead of answering.

Mark pauses, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“No.”

It sucks, admitting it out in the open like this. When he got the rejection letter, he’d been crushed. His parents had said it was fine, that SNU was just missing out on a stellar student. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Fuck,” Jaebum mutters. “You okay?”

“I knew I wasn’t going to,” Mark says, and he ignores the way Jaebum rolls his eyes at him. “Where do your parents want you to go, anyway? You never told me.”

Jaebum taps his chopsticks against the rim of his bowl.

“The school has a good film program,” he says slowly. “It’s NYU.”

“New York University? Like, in _America_?” Mark’s voice is hardly above a whisper.

Jaebum clenches his jaw, angrily picking up another mouthful of ramen.

“I’m not going.”

“What?” Mark shakes his head. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m not fucking going,” Jaebum hisses out. “I don’t want to.”

“It’s a good school,” Mark says softly. “Like, really good.”

“So?”

“So,” Mark begins. “You’d be an idiot not to go.”

“It’s in _America_ , Mark,” Jaebum growls. “That’s the other side of the world!”

Mark swallows past the lump in his throat.

“You should go, Jaebum.”

“Shut up,” Jaebum mutters, glaring hard at the table.

“Jaebum, seriously,” Mark hesitantly reaches for his friend’s shoulder. Jaebum shakes him off and Mark steels his nerves, searching for the courage he usually doesn’t have. “It’s an amazing opportunity.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

Jaebum tosses out the rest of his food. Mark throws away the remainder of his candy, the sweet taste suddenly so, so sour in his mouth.

Jaebum is quiet as they walk. They end up at a park, where Mark watches a father push his son on the swings. The son is screaming with joy, his smile wide and bright. His father stops pushing him then, and helps him off before taking his hand and walking away with him.

“C’mon,” Mark says softly, leading Jaebum to the now abandoned swings.

He sits down gingerly, lightly rocking himself forward. Jaebum is hunched over his knees, folded hands pressed into his forehead. He rights himself after a moment, staring off at something in the distance.

Now, with the wind in his hair and the sun on his face, Jaebum looks ethereal. It takes Mark’s breath away, for one horrific second, and there’s that flash of want in his veins all over again. His chest feels tight, tighter with each moment his eyes are on Jaebum.

It seems unfathomable, to think of Jaebum off in America, miles upon miles away from Mark. They’ve never been apart, not since they were kids, working their way through school with each other at their sides. Jaebum’s become a part of Mark, a part of him that is so deeply entwined in himself that he can’t imagine Jaebum ever being gone.

Jaebum turns to look at him, squinting as the sun lands in his eyes. Mark looks at his furrowed eyebrows, at the tiny moles above his eye, at his nose and mouth and _every goddamn inch of him_.

“What are you looking at?” Jaebum asks. Mark hadn’t even realized he stopped swinging.

“Nothing.” _You_ , he thinks, over and over. _Always you_.

He wonders if Jaebum can hear his thoughts, if he knows how much Mark wants him, how much his hurts being so close to him, but not close enough to have him all to himself.

 

 

 

 

It’s no surprise that Jaebum walks over to the beach next. He’s always liked the water. He joined their high school’s swim team as soon as he could. He’ll probably swim in college.

Mark wonders if NYU has a swim team.

He looks away when Jaebum throws his shirt off, ridding himself of his undershirt so he’s standing shirtless before Mark.

Mark settles down onto the sand, removing his backpack from his shoulders and watching as Jaebum walks into the water, pants and all, until the only thing Mark can see are his tanned, broad shoulders.

Mark removes his shoes, choosing to leave his shirt on as he tentatively steps into the water. It’s cold, and Mark bites back his shout of surprise.

Jaebum is floating on his back now, arms spread out wide. His hand grips Mark’s hip when he’s close enough, dragging him towards him. Mark goes willingly, lingering awkwardly beside him, toes curling into the wet sand beneath his feet.

“Jaebum?” He’s breathless and he doesn’t even know _why_.

It’s then that Jaebum flicks water towards Mark’s face, grinning for the first time since they left school. Mark coughs seawater out of his mouth, blinking rapidly to ease the sting of it in his eyes.

“Hey!” he shouts, scooping water in his hands and tossing it on Jaebum.

Jaebum splutters, standing up in the water, shaking his head like a dog. Drops of water fly everywhere, flecking Mark’s already-soaked shirt with even more moisture.

They fight like that for a while, wrestling each other, trying to dunk the other beneath the water’s surface. When they inevitably grow tired, they retreat back to the shore, where Jaebum grabs a stick and begins writing something in the sand.

When he’s done, he sits beside Mark, close enough that his bare arm is pressed against Mark’s. Through his shirt, he can feel the warmth of Jaebum’s skin, comforting like always. He finds himself craving the familiar heat, but forces himself to refrain from moving closer. This is enough, he tells himself, but the truth is that it _isn’t_.

“I can’t go to America,” Jaebum says, voice low. “I can’t.”

“You should,” Mark says. “You’ll make a lot of friends, you know. People always like you.”

“Like who, Soohyun?” Jaebum says with a derisive snort.

“Yeah,” Mark says softly. “And others.”

Jaebum digs his heels into the sand. “You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?” Mark asks.

“I’m not going without you,” Jaebum says, and Mark releases a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“This happens all the time,” Mark says. “We’re growing up, Jaebum, and—”

There’s pressure against his mouth. Mark’s entire body freezes, his hands hanging awkwardly in midair, unsure of he should hold Jaebum or push him away. Just as he begins to relax into the sensation of Jaebum kissing him, he’s gone, retreating back into himself, leaving Mark to stare at him, mouth hung open in shock.

“Do you get it now?” Jaebum asks.

“Yes,” Mark whispers, heart feeling like it might just explode, right there in his chest.

“Good,” Jaebum says, getting up to go to the dry patch of sand behind them, tugging his undershirt back on and laying flat against the sand.

Mark leans back until he too is lying down, feeling the warmth of the sun on his cheeks. From here, he can faintly make out the words Jaebum had written into the sand. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he opens his eyes again, the sun has moved down in the sky, hanging above the horizon.

The waves crash against the shore, ruining the sentence Jaebum had carved into the sand. Something about eternal youth and "fuck it all", if Mark remembers correctly. Mark turns to see his reaction, but he’s lying on his uniform shirt, arms folded beneath his head. From here, Mark can't tell if he's awake or not.

Mark crouches down and digs through the moist sand for a seashell. He finds one, pearl white and sun warm, and he cradles it in his hand like it’s the most precious thing he’ll ever hold.

The sand squishes beneath his feet as he makes his way back to Jaebum. Here, the sand is dry, and it almost hurts when it scrapes against his skin. He plops himself down on the ground beside Jaebum’s legs, squinting as he watches the horizon paint the ocean shades of pink and orange and gold.

“Found anything good?” Jaebum asks, voice slow and groggy. He had been asleep, then.

“A shell,” Mark answers, handing it to him.

Jaebum props himself up on an elbow. He rubs his thumb over the rounded edge of the shell before he sets it down carefully on the sand.

“Jaebum.”

“Hm?”

“We can’t stay here forever,” Mark says.

Jaebum doesn’t react for a moment, and Mark wonders if he even heard him at all. He opens his mouth to repeat himself when Jaebum sighs and flops back against the ground.

“But we don’t have to leave yet.”

“Jaebum,” Mark says again, ignoring how Jaebum rolls his eyes like a petulant child.

“Why do you even want to go back, Mark?”

“Because we can’t stay here,” he answers, shaking his head. “This can’t last forever. We have to go home eventually.”

“We can make it last forever, Mark,” Jaebum says, sharply, and Mark sinks in on himself.

“Nothing’s going to change by doing this,” Mark says. “You’ll still have to leave.”

Jaebum goes quiet, and Mark wonders if he’s finally gotten through to him.

“I know,” he says, so softly that Mark nearly misses it. “But we don’t have to leave  _right now_ , do we?”

And there’s something about the way he says it, so small and vulnerable, something Mark hardly hears coming from him, that has him curling up beside Jaebum, pressing his face into the sun-warm skin of his neck.

“No,” he mumbles. “Not yet.”

He feels Jaebum trace his spine through his shirt and pushes his nose into his sternum, breathing in his scent. He smells like salt, but somewhere beneath that, home.

It would be easy, he thinks, for them to ignore reality for a while. It’s what they’ve done all day, after all. The world had been full of nothing other than Mark and Jaebum, and it had been mind-numbingly _perfect_.

But stubborn as Jaebum is, he can’t avoid the inevitable. Tonight, they’ll be back in their separate homes, scrubbing sand off their skin, flushing every reminder of this moment down the drain.

And tomorrow, they’ll be back in school. Mark will wait for Jaebum by the gate, just like always. Soohyun will probably give him another treat, and Jaebum will offer it to him before ultimately throwing it away. They’ll go through their last days of high school, savoring each moment until it’s gone, until Mark is going to a tiny school in Seoul and Jaebum is in New York, following his dream.

Nothing will change, no matter how much Mark wants it to. No matter how much he loves Im Jaebum, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he stopped him from leaving.

“Will you go?” Mark says, sitting up. Jaebum keeps a hand on the small of his back, cracking his eyes open to look at him. “If I tell you I want you to go, will you?”

“You don’t want me to go,” Jaebum says, sounding so sure of himself.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know _you_ , Mark,” Jaebum says. He folds his arms beneath his head again. “How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long have you loved me?”

“I never said I love you,” Mark says instantly.

“You don’t have to,” Jaebum replies easily. “I know.”

Mark grinds his teeth together.

“Why, Jaebum?”

“What?”

“Why’d you bring me here?” he asks. And then, quieter, “Why’d you kiss me?”

“I don’t know how much longer I have with you.”

Mark snorts. “You’re not dying, Jaebum.”

“Feels like I am,” he says, and Mark almost chastises him. Doesn’t get the chance, though, because he continues to speak. “I like you.”

“You should. We’re best friends.”

“Not like that,” Jaebum grumbles impatiently.

“We’re graduating soon,” Mark reminds him. “You said there wasn’t a point in getting into a relationship.”

“I said that about Soohyun,” Jaebum says. “I never said anything about _you_.”

“You’re crazy,” Mark finally manages to get out, the words feeling syrupy and slow, as if his mouth is moving without his permission. His thoughts feel muddled, wound so tightly around each other that the only thing Mark can think clearly is that Jaebum is here, with him.

“Stay with me,” Jaebum says, so, so soft, soft enough that Mark barely hears him. “Just for today.”

And so Mark curls up beside him again, curling his fingers around Jaebum’s shirt, trying to memorize every inch of him.

 

 

 

 

 

“You’re early today.”

Mark nods, watching as Jaebum sits next to him. He thinks about the previous night, about how he spent the bus ride home pressed against Jaebum, his heart aching more than anything else in the world. He remembers going home, washing the remnants of the day off, wondering if Jaebum was doing the same.

“I got up early,” Mark says, fiddling with a loose string on his shirt sleeve.

“I’m sorry. About yesterday.”

Mark lifts his head, eyes wide. Jaebum’s not looking at him, his lips pressed together firmly.

“Why are you apologizing?”

Jaebum furrows his eyebrows.

“What?”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Mark whispers, folding his hands together. “I wanted to go.”

 _I wanted to go with you_.

“I,” he begins, choking on the word, forcing to speak around the giant lump in his throat. “I’ll still want you. Even if you go.”

“Yeah?” Jaebum murmurs.                                  

“Yeah,” Mark agrees, biting his lip hard enough to hurt. “Always.”

“You gonna wait for me?” Jaebum asks, eyes hopeful even though he’s trying so hard to not look affected.

“Every day,” Mark says.

Jaebum grins widely, his eyes sparkling. It takes Mark back to the first moment he realized he loved Jaebum, when they’d been in middle school. He remembers how the other boys had talked about girls, with their widening hips and soft perfume.

All he could think about was Jaebum, who had grown taller, stronger, more like a man. How he tried to hide his feelings, always too scared that someone would minimize them. About how passionate he’d get when talking about film, about how he’d tell Mark the stories he wanted to create, hands waving around wildly as he spoke.

Jaebum had been handsome them, beautiful in every sense of the word. He’s even more so now, with his sharp jaw and even sharper eyes, with the quiet pride he holds himself with.

With the way he’s looking at Mark now, eyes soft, hand inching towards Mark’s, curling their fingers together hesitantly, as if he’s afraid Mark will pull away.

Mark tightens his grip on Jaebum’s hand, hard enough that it almost hurts.

“Good,” Jaebum finally says. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

Jaebum begins to walk towards the school. Mark follows behind him, helpless to do anything else. When Soohyun offers him yet another snack in their classroom, Jaebum gently pushes her away.

“There’s someone else I like,” he says, meeting Mark’s eyes over her shoulder.

He can barely hear her dejected words, and completely misses her walking back to her seat, ears tinged red with embarrassment.

All he can see is Jaebum, smiling almost shyly at him. And when they leave school that day, standing close enough together that their shoulders knock together, Mark feels like he’s on fire.

Only this time, it doesn’t hurt.


End file.
